


No One Is Perfect

by greekowl87



Series: Tumblr Prompts [27]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, MSR, Post-Episode: s07e07 Orison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 18:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16181111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/pseuds/greekowl87
Summary: A post ep of Orison for Mulder and Scully. Some angst. Some fluff. Yeah. Enjoy.





	No One Is Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: throwing their arms around the other person, holding them close while they kiss
> 
> A/N: I am overdue with this. Life is crazy busy. I think this turned out okay or matches the prompt idea? Much apologizing on my part. Etcetera, etcetera. Post Orison.

Scully’s back ached from being slammed against the mirror and dresser in her bedroom about five hours ago. She faired better in contrast to when Pfaster threw down the stairs four years previously. Yet somehow, it was worse. She found that out a lot: everything was worse when she was older but she still recovered quickly. Everything hurt worse somehow. But the medics had done a great job treating her wounds. But each time she shifted uncomfortably in Mulder’s bed, wearing one of his tee shirts and a pair of her sweats, she still felt the skin abrasions flare up and burn. She would flashback to Pfaster slamming her against the wall, from 1994 into 2000, through time. What an odd thought. Her body had endured so much since her incorporation into the x-files when Mulder’s work became their work.

Unable to sleep, she sat up in Mulder’s bed, wondering where he was. Wincing, she shifted and threw her legs over the bed, her feet barely skimming the carpeted floor. Scully strained her ears to hear something else in the quiet apartment. She saw the light from the television but heard no sound. Was he still up? Had he fallen asleep on the couch? With her interest peaked, she got out of bed and shuffled to the bedroom door.

“Mulder,” she called softly.

She opened the door and saw the television had gone to a late night infomercial with playing in the background on mute. Mulder was wide awake, laying across his couch with legs crossed, staring at some unknown fixed point. She recognized that look. He was lost in his own thoughts, mulling something over, and he needed to be brought back to Earth. She tugged at his big toe and startled him.

“Hey,” she greeted.

He groaned sitting up. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just missing something.”

“What?”

“You.”

The couch dipped as Scully sat next to him, gingerly mindful of her own injuries. “I wouldn’t do you much good, Scully.”

“And why not? You were there last time.”

“I was just doing what anyone else would have done.”

“And you should come back to bed and stop blaming yourself,” she whispered. “You didn’t know that Pfister would follow us back to Washington. You didn’t know that he would be there.”

“I should have done more like driven you home or something. Walked you to your door. Checked your apartment. Something. I knew how much this case unnerved you.”

Scully took his larger hand and encased in both of her own. She flexed her fingers around his hand before interweaving them together. “You are doing more, Mulder. You are here now. Just like now.”

“Like that night?” he scoffed. “I didn’t do much then.”

Scully ignored his bitterness and tugged at his hand. “Come to bed with me, Mulder.”

Thinking of no other way to keep her happy, he followed her into the bedroom like a petulant child. He kicked off his shoes and began to undress as Scully dug through his drawers for his sleeping pants. “It’s not supposed to be like this, Scully. I should be taking care of you.”

“Well, you are when I know you are here. It doesn’t take much.” He changed into his sleeping pants as she reclaimed her side of the bed. Mulder sat with his back to her, his head lowered. “Mulder, come to bed.”

“What if I hadn’t gotten there in time?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “If I had lost you…”

“No what ifs.” He heard a sharp intake of breath as she crawled painfully next to him. “I fought to stay alive because of you, because of us.” He felt her cool hands wrap around her shoulders and his neck. “I love you.”

He shook his head. “I was never strong like you were, Scully.”

“It doesn’t matter. Now, get in bed.” He shifted so that he was finally laying down underneath the covers, holding them invitingly as Scully melted next to him. Mulder sighed contently and hugged her tightly, mindful of her injuries. “No one’s perfect, Mulder.”

“I try to be. For you.”

She shifted, throwing her arms around his neck in a languid manner, holding him closer. Mulder held his breath as she was mere millimeters from his face. This kiss was burning as if cauterizing any other doubt that flooded from his lips. As she pulled back, her eyes tracked his features gauging his thoughts. “You are, Mulder to me. I wouldn’t want you to change a thing.”

He licked his lips before bending forward, initiating another kiss between them. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“You’re the only one who deserves me. I know I’m not much up to it tonight…” She stroked the back of his neck enticingly. “But would you settle for this?”

He nodded unable to find words to respond. She felt him rearrange himself around her so that she was protectively encased all around. Scully closed her eyes and felt herself relax. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He kissed the top of her hair in affirmation.


End file.
